Like a Skyscraper
by NeverlandAwaitsUs
Summary: AU: Many people are forgotten in big cities. They are lost in the crowd. Nobody cares for a normal individual. There is no peace. It's hectic and loud. When you're broken and alone, nobody will help you, because everyone has their own problems. That's what many people think. But what happens, if someone shows up and wants to help you?
1. You seem to be the perfect stranger

_A/N: This is one of my first fics I ever wrote and I have no idea what this is, it just came up in my head and people forced me to publish it because they liked it, so here you go~_

**You seem to be the perfect stranger**

It was cold. Damn cold. But she was used to it. She'd done it for a few months already. Since she's been out of prison, nothing was like before. No money. No friends. No family. Only this damn car that Neal had left her. He probably had a guilty conscience, because it was his fault that she has been in prison. Pregnant. With his fucking child. She have never wanted the child. She was't ready to be a mother. Only when the child died in her arms, she became aware that she was ready. But it was too late. The child was dead.

For weeks she had felt nothing. She was numb. Only one week ago she had begun to feel something again. She didn't know why. It was just like that. Her life had never been easy. Orphan. Grown up in the children's home. She had been in many different foster homes and then, she finally ended up in Neal's arms. She had been happy. So happy. And then he left her. Just like that. For no reason. She was abandoned again. She'd been abandoned all her life.

Her yellow car was parked in a back alley. No one would look here. No one came here. Why should anyone take care of her? She was alone. All her life she had been alone. And now it looked like she could be happy, if only she could survive the winter.

She opened her eyes, blinked slightly, and saw the snow falling gently. Emma pushed her jacket from her body, which had served as a blanket and sat up in the car. Another view of the outside told her that it had probably been snowing for a while, because the ground was covered with snow. She had always liked snow, especially as a child. The small, cool crystals. Today, it was just a memory.

Her stomach pulled her out of the memories. Food would be good ... if she had some. But that wasn't the case. She dug a little in her pocket before she found a wallet. Not hers, of course. She had stolen it. Otherwise she couldn't survive. She had no job. No way to earn money. Only her nimble fingers.

She looked in the rearview mirror, fixed her hair a little and then she put on her red leather jacket. Emma had only a few clothes, but this was definitely her favorite. She stashed the money in her jacket pocket and climbed out of the car finally. Cold air caressed her body and she shivered briefly. She inhaled a deep breath of fresh air, locked her car and walked towards the main road. There were a few shops. She especially liked the Granny's, a cozy little cafe where the prices were affordable.

Her steps produced a crunching sound, leaving footprints. The only ones. The closer she came to the main road, the louder it got. Cars raced past each other. People with briefcases passed through the mass of people. Everyone was in a hurry. Everyone was busy. Only she wasn't. She was seemingly invisible. No one took advantage of her. And that was a good thing, so she stayed out of trouble.

She walked over to Granny's and looked around. She was looking for something. Or more specifically, someone. One look at her clock told her that it was already 10am. He should be here. Normally a young man always left the little coffee when she got there. She didn't know why she noticed it at all. He was almost like the only constant in her life. He was always there. He always came out just before she went inside. Dark hair, slight beard, sea blue eyes. She didn't know who the man was, but she liked his eyes.

But today he wasn't there. She didn't see him while she stood at the door. She sighed slightly and then walked into the coffee. She felt the warm air and it was better than the cold outside. Ruby, the waitress, greeted her kindly. They were about the same age and because Emma was often here, they knew each other a little. They talked every now and then, but Ruby had no idea who Emma really was. Nobody knew that and she would not tell it to anyone.

Just as she was about to sit on their regular place, she saw him sitting there. He just sat there, with his coffee and his newspaper. Wrapped in a long cloak. He was completely calm, not as hectic as the other. She didn't notice that she began to stare at him and stood in the middle of the cafe.

"Seems like your regular seat is already occupied."

The friendly voice of Ruby sounded and both the foreign young man and Emma turned their heads, before Emma looked to her regular seat and looked directly into the eyes of stranger's. She swallowed easily.

"Did I sit in your seat?"

She could clearly hear his Irish accent. She had to blink a few times before she found her tongue again. That was embarrassing.

"It's okay, I can sit somewhere else."

"I have nothing against company."

"You must have to work again soon."

"To be exact, I have some more time."

Silence. She looked a little unsure to Ruby, who nodded encouragingly. She hadn't noticed, that she and the stranger had not formally talked to each other. She began slowly to move and dropped into the chair across from him.

"Emma, the usual?"

"Yep."

The blonde ordered the same thing every day. A cup of hot chocolate and a bun. Every morning. Ruby knew that the stranger smiled only crooked, whereupon Emma grimaced a little quizzically.

"So, Emma, huh?"

She nodded.

"I like that name. I'm Killian. Killian Jones."

He gave her his hand. First, she looked skeptical, not sure what to do. Finally, she reached for his hand, shook it slightly. His hands were warm, hers were icecold.

„Emma Swan. "

The man was still smiling slightly, but she couldn't manage to give him a smile. She didn't have the strength.

"You're here more often, right? I see you every now and then when I'm leaving the cafe."

The young woman had never realized that he noticed her. No one noticed her. Not out there. Not in the hustle and bustle.

"I usually eat breakfast here."

He smiled, took a sip of his coffee and saw Ruby coming with Emma's order. She put it on the table, smiled at them and then disappeared behind the counter. For a moment, there was silence, both drank their drinks and Emma bit into her bun.

"Why are you here today for longer?"

Killian raised an eyebrow, folded the paper and put them aside.

"Why do you ask, love?"

"Just curious."

Emma almost choked on her hot chocolate, when he looked at her like that.

"Well, because I can."

"Because you can?"

"Even if I have a job, no one will take my freedom away."

She blinked at him a few times, but said nothing. Freedom. Was she free? No. She was a prisoner in the society like everyone else. But him? He seemed so different. Relaxed. Free. He had something. Something she had. She just did not know what this was.

Killian took a long sip of his coffee, then put the cup down again and looked at Emma.

"I gotta go. It was nice. Maybe we'll do it again tomorrow."

"Maybe."

The young man laughed lightly, before he got up, took his paper and went to the counter to pay. Emma hesitated for a moment, but then turned around slightly to look at him as he left the cafe, but he also looked back once.

Her head jerked immediately forward again in the hope that he hadn't seen that she had looked after him. She devote back to her bun and her drink.

After a while, she stood up too and went to Ruby to pay. But the waitress shook her head, whereupon Emma looked at her confused.

"Mr. Jones has paid."

"What?"

"Well, he paid for you."

"Why?"

"No idea. You could ask him tomorrow."

"Hm."

Emma did not know what to think of it.

"He likes you."

"Yeah, sure."

She shook her head, said goodbye to Ruby and then left without knowing the cafe, where she wanted to go. Maybe they should just wait for tomorrow. Maybe they'd just sit there together again. Maybe.


	2. No help needed

A month had already passed, and they'd met every day at the cafe. Emma didn't know why she did it. Why she liked with him. She didn't know if they were friends. Acquaintances. Strangers. Perfect strangers. But he was her constant, her anchor, otherwise she would probably have perished long ago. Perished in the city, perished in the crowd, suffocated by her own life.

Killian didn't know how she lived. He knew nothing about her. Mostly she asked the questions, sometimes no one said anything. It was a comfortable silence. They were connected by something. Emma didn't know what it was but they had a connection. A strong one. Otherwise she wouldn't even go near him.

But she couldn't tell him about her life, because he was quite different from her. He had an apartment, a job, friends, a family. A life that was perfect but it was something that she would never have. She was far too broken.

Both had just left the cafe.

„Let me bring you home, love."

„I can walk alone you know. I'm a big girl."

He grinned at her, walking right next to her down the street.

„Come on, just to the front door."

„Killian..I'm fine."

He sighed, put his hands into his pockets.

„So I'm never gonna find out where you live?"

„Soon."

She tried to smile at him, tried to cover her lie. He would never know it, not soon, just never. She was ashamed. Ashamed by her own life.

She saw the alley come where her car stands, but he still walked next to her. They would just go by and he wouldn't notice and maybe he would leave her alone after a while of walking.

But right when she took a look in the alley for her car, she saw two teenagers trying to break into her car.

„Hey!"

Her voice echoed in the alley and made the boys aware of the two adults. Killian took a look into the alley and just saw how the two teenagers disappeared behind the next corner, cursing the two loudly.

„We should look after the car."

„Nah, I think it's fine."

Emma swallowed easily. She would look after her stuff later, when he was gone. He raised an eyebrow at her, looked right into her face and frowned for a second.

„Come on, let's go. You can come with me, but just to the frontdoor."

He smiled again, nodded and they just kept walking.

They stopped in front of a big building with many appartments.

„So...you live here?"

„Yep."

She nodded, pushing the frontdoor open and she was happy, that it actually worked since some doors are mostly closed.

„Alright. I see you tomorrow then at the cafe?"

„Yes, sounds good to me."

He smiled at her, looked at her with such a soft look in her eyes that broke her heart, because she knew she lied to him. She shouldn't do this. He was honest and she lied. He trusted her and she lied. She felt so bad but was also relieved when he walked away, behind the next corner.

Emma waited a few seconds to make sure he wouldn't come back, when she walked with fast steps back to the alley to check her car. Before she even reached the car, she heard the crunching noise of footsteps in the snow, right behind her. She turned around and saw into the sea blue eyes she loved.

„I knew it was your car."

Her eyes widened in shock, she opened her mouth to say something, tried to find an excuse, but she couldn't find the right words. Damn.

„Why did you lie to me?"

„Killian I...I'm..."

But she didn't need to say anything, because he already passed by her and took a look into her car. And then there it was. _The_ look. The confused look that was literally asking her what was going on. He wasn't mad. She couldn't see any anger in his eyes. The only thing she saw was...concern. What?

„...Emma?"

She stopped on the spot, glanced down, then back up, biting her lower lip.

„It's not as bad as it looks."

„You're living in your car. This_ is _bad."

„Well you get used to it after a while."

„How long have you lived in there?"

„...A couple of months."

„Months?!"

He was shocked that she lived such a long time only in the backseat of her car, without a home, without anything. Just her few clothes in there. And he could imagine how bad it really was, how bad she must really feel, because he could see she was ashamed of the circumstances.

„I can handle it."

„Apparently not. You could get hurt. What if you were in the car while the teenagers tried to break it open? What if somebody doesn't care if you're in there and you get really hurt? You could die with these temperatures!"

„I can handle my life very well, Killian!"

The Irishman looked at her, she couldn't even figure out what he was thinking, but she got more angry. He shouldn't interfere in her life. He should go. Now. She didn't need him.

„Give me the car keys."

„What?"

„The keys. For the car."

„Why should I give them to you?"

„I'll drive you to my apartment."

She raised an eyebrow, not sure if she really understood what he just said.

„Why would you do that?"

„Because I like you."

Silence. Emma swallowed hard. She had known him for a month. She wanted to trust him, but she couldn't. Her gaze was fixed on the cool snow on the ground. Her head was as empty. When she heard footsteps, she lifted her head again and saw that Killian was standing right in front of her. He reached out and held his hand open, waiting for the key. She didn't trust him. She couldn't trust him. She hardly knew him. He was a stranger. It was wrong. He wasn't allowed to scratch her walls. He shouldn't interfere. But she gave him the keys. Because they had a connection. A strong one.

He took the keys and indicated with a nod that she should get into the car. A few minutes later they were sitting in the little yellow bug. While Killian drove off, Emma was silent. She was angry, but at the same time she was also afraid. The meetings had been good, she liked to be with him, but now? Now that he interfered in her life? Where he began to scratch her walls she had built? Now she would have been happy if she had never met him. She needed no anchor, she had no problem with drowning. No one would care. She didn't need him. She didn't want him.

She stared out the window and watched as the world moved past her. The two didn't speak. Again and again his words echoed again in her head. He liked her. It could be a lie. But no, he wasn't lying. Not him. But if she believed that he wasn't lying, she trusted him, right? But she couldn't do that. It was dumb. Trust was bad. Trust was exploited. Trust hurts.

A few minutes later they stopped in front of a large building. He got out and she did the same.

"Get your things."

She nodded, took her few clothes out of the trunk and followed him into the building. His apartment was on the second floor, a few stairs were handled quickly. He unlocked the door and they entered the warm apartment. It was pleasant.

"Feel like home."

That guy was funny. She had no home. She had never really had a home. How could she know what it felt like? Emma nodded and then she heard an annoyed groan from Killian.

"What's wrong, love?"

"Nothing."

"You wouldn't be like this, if nothing is wrong."

She said nothing and dropped her stuff on the black sofa, before she turned to face him.

"You simply shouldn't interfere in my life."

"I just want to help you."

"I don't need help. From anyone!"

Killian was silent. He knew those words. He swallowed hard before he looked down, then back to her.

"Are you hungry? I can make us something. As long as you shower. If you want."

Emma hesitantly chewed on her lower lip, then she nodded again.

"The bathroom is down the hall and turn right."

She took a few of her clothes and went to the bathroom, while Killian went to the kitchen. He had never thought about that she might need help. But she did. He knew better. She had seemed like a normal woman and now he had a different picture of her. Her life was so different from what he had expected.

The words of the blonde hung in his head. She didn't need help? But she did. He knew. He knew better than anyone else. He himself had said these words once. It wasn't that long ago. Killian listened as the water began to rustle and was brought out of his thoughts. He took off his coat, put it on a chair and started to cook something. He wasn't a great cook, and he hoped that she was satisfied with fried eggs. Mostly he just ordered something.

The warm water moisten her skin and in this moment, Emma was really glad that she went with him. A long time she had no hot shower and it felt good. She took advantage of that she was here. Because it was the first and last time. She wouldn't come here again. She would simply disappear. Yes, she liked him. Somehow. But she couldn't allow it, that he scratched on her walls like Neal did. Neal had broken through and where did she land? In prison. Pregnant. Alone. Normally she pushed people away from her directly when it came too close. From Killian she pulled out only ... an advantage. Hot water, hot food, and maybe she could wash her clothes so she hadn't to waste any money for a laundromat. But as soon as she left the apartment tonight, he would never see her again. That's what she promised herself. She couldn't stay with him. It was wrong. He was wrong for her.


	3. With caring comes courage

He had finished the eggs just as she came from the bathroom. She wore a long gray sweater and jeans. He smiled slightly at her, but she just put her old and dirty clothes to the rest of her things she brought in here.

"I hope you like fried eggs," Killian tried.

"Sure."

It was a strange situation. Not like usual.

"Sit down, I'll take everything into the living room."

She nodded and sat down on the sofa. It was definitely more comfortable than the backseat of her car. She looked at the TV first and then the wall behind it. It was dark blue with two bright blue stars and a phrase.

"Second star to the right and straight on 'till morning."

His voice appeared behind her. He must have noticed that she was looking at the wall. Emma turned her head and saw how Killian had just come with the plates.

"Why did you write this on your wall?"

"I like it."

Peter Pan had always been his favorite story.

"Me too."

Killian put down the plates, pushed one towards her and sat down beside her.

"When I was a kid, I always wanted to be Peter Pan. I never wanted to grow up. I wanted to live in a land full of adventures. I wanted to be free."

Emma listened intently and for a moment a small smile crossed her face.

"I always wanted to be Wendy. Wrested from everyday life in order to be free."

Freedom. A wish that they both carried within themselves. Something that connected them.

"We can watch the film," Killian suggested.

"Really? I haven't seen him in a long time..."

"Give me a second, love."

She watched him as he got up and went to the TV to load the DVD. He came back grinning and sat down again. Her childhood wasn't pretty, but this movie was one of the few positive memories. Some would think they are childish, because they watched cartoons, but they didn't care. As he picked up the remote and turned on everything, she looked at him from the side. His light beard, his blue eyes. His ears were even similar to that of Peter Pan. She could imagine how he played Peter Pan and fought against Hook when he was a young boy. She could imagine how happy he must have been. After all, she had also been happy. Partially. Every night when she lay in bed, she had always hoped that Peter Pan would come to fetch her. That he would take her to Neverland. That he'd save her.

As they watched the movie, they exchanged glances again and again when the other wasn't looking. Emma looked at the young man at her side, and he looked at her. They seemed again as if they'd known each other forever, and the silence was no longer strange but pleasant. Emma enjoyed it. But they weren't silent the whole time. They talked and laughed with each other. Well, he laughed more than her, but she laughed, too. He managed to make her laugh. Something she hadn't done for a long time. More frequently, a smile crossed her lips. She forgot everything. Right now it was as if she already knew him forever. She didn't feel numb any longer. He brought back her emotions, even if only for a few moments right now. She felt good again. She only cared about him - the little anger was gone and deep inside of her she already knew that he was someone special.

At that moment, they were just kids. It didn't matter whether she was twenty years old and he twenty-five. They were children, and it felt good. They didn't care about anything else. They didn't care about the fucked up society out there. They didn't care about their pasts. They only cared for the movie and each other. But it was over too soon.

"She should have stayed with him in Neverland."

"Would you have stayed with him?"

Killian looked at her quizzically while she thought.

"I don't know. Probably. The older you get, the more problems you get. And so Peter wouldn't have been alone."

"He has his Lost Boys."

"You know what I mean."

The Irishman laughed easily but nodded. Of course he knew what she meant. He got up to clear the empty dishes, until Emma grabbed her own.

"I'll help you!"

He smiled, nodded, and went along with her to the kitchen. Once there, she put her plate in the sink, and he did the same. A clink caught her attention; a fork was dropped. She bent down and then Killian gasped as her sweater slipped a little high.

"Emma-"

Only now had she realized what she just revealed. What she had shown him. She quickly sat up and pulled her sweater down far.

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

"Don't lie to me. Not again."

He walked up to her, grabbed her arm, and she grimaced in pain. Immediately, he let loose and shoved up her sleeve easily. Her skin at her arm was covered with scars, like the part of her left side he just saw when her sweater slipped up.

"Emma..."

"Don't look at them, please. They're disgusting. My body is ruined with them. Please, please don't look at them. Let go, please."

"No."

"What? Killian-"

"Your body isn't ruined. You're just marked by your life. These are your battle scars, love."

She couldn't believe what he just said. He wasn't going to condemn her for what she had done to herself? Anyone who had seen the scars had done it. Everyone had condemned her. But he didn't. He looked just like before. Perhaps even more worried. He cared for her, she could see it in his eyes. He cared. But she couldn't let him near her. Especially not now.

She pulled her arm away abruptly and rolled the sleeves back down. She could feel the anger in her veins again. He interfered, again! It was all fine until he asked stuff again, until he saw the scars.

"Battle Scars? Are you fucking serious? You don't know anything about it! All these scars remind me that my whole past is fucking true and a fucking nightmare! What do you know about how it hurts to remember every day?! "

"I've experienced it myself, damn it!"

Silence. Emma frowned. Killian swallowed.

"I was once at the point where I needed help. I know how you feel, and that's why I want to help you. "

His voice sounded broken for a second. Broken and sad. Like his eyes, for one second, they were dull, without his usual look. What happened to him? She gave herself a few moments to calm down again, to look to the ground and back to him before starting to talk again, more calm.

"You can't help me."

He took a step toward her.

"You're too young to be broken."

"But I am. More than you can imagine. "

The Irishman was standing close to her, looked her in the eyes. He saw her pain, and looked straight into her soul. He could read her like an open book.

"Let me help you, Emma."

"I can handle it myself."

"No. You can't. Trust me."

She lowered her head. Her wounds hurt. The wounds on her skin and the soul in her. He wanted to help her. She saw it in his eyes. Her mouth was dry. What should she say? She was bipolar. Kind of. In a way. In one moment she was angry that he interfered in her life, in the other, she was kind of glad that someone cared about her. In one moment she tried to hold up her walls, in the next, she let them down, trying to trust him.

"I'm so damn weak, Killian. I won't make it even with your help."

"You're not weak, love. You are strong. You're still alive after you've been broken. You are strong."

He could see a tear roll down her cheek. She allowed feelings. Feelings that she had suppressed for so long. Pain. Anxiety. Loneliness. It overwhelmed her. As the tears flowed faster and faster over her soft skin, he bridged the last few meters and took her quietly in his arm.

"Shh."

He said nothing. He hadn't had to say anything. The connection of the two spoke for itself. He wouldn't leave her alone. Not in this state. He would be there for her. He would be her anchor in this damn storm.

It was the first time in a while that she allowed physical contact again. Proper physical contact, not just a handshake, but something like a hug. She leaned weakly against his chest before she clawed at his shirt, and then she began to sob. He gently stroked her back, held her simply in his arms. It didn't feel like he would hold a stranger in his arms. It was as if they'd known each other forever. From another life. From another world. It felt good. Familiar.

It didn't take long until her tears stopped, and he slowly stepped back from her. He didn't know what had happened in her life, but he could see her pain in her eyes. He could feel it. No matter what had happened to her, he knew the feeling. Pain. Loneliness. Losses. Betrayal.


	4. Haunted by memories

They had distracted themselves - with more films, with more talk of ordinary things. He did not force her. If she did not want to talk, then that was okay. But the evening dawned faster than expected. Emma watched as the sun went down and the moon shone in through the windows, and she became restless. Killian looked out of the kitchen where he was drying the dishes.

"What is it, love?"

"It's late."

"And?"

"I should go."

"Go?"

He wasn't even really confused; he knew she wanted to go as soon as possible.

"Yes. I don't want to be a burden."

"And where will you go?"

That was a good question. But she knew, exactly as he did, that she had no place to go. He didn't play fair.

"Somewhere."

He dried his hands, put the towel down, and went to her at the window, leaning next to her on the window sill.

"I won't let you out. It's cold, they've called for a storm, and you won't be safe out there."

"But I can't stay."

"Why not?"

"Because I ... I don't want to be a burden. I don't want to cause you any trouble."

"You don't want my help."

"Killian, I-"

"It's all right."

He pushed himself away from the window sill, turned his back on her and walked a few steps. She went after him, grabbed his arm. He stopped, looked at her hand, then into her eyes.

"Don't be angry!"

"Who says that I'm angry?"

"You're acting like this. But you've got me wrong. I'm... just not used to the fact that someone cares about me. I don't know why you do that ... it confuses me."

The young man turned to her, and she let go of his arm.

"I told you already, I was once in the same situation. However, I didn't accept the help and then...I just don't want you to commit the same mistake."

"Mistake? What happened?"

He turned his head to the window, looked at the red sky, which seemed almost red like blood. The sun was going down, it would be dark soon.

"Maybe another time."

Emma nodded. She understood him. She also didn't like to talk about everything that had happened. Yes, she was curious, but she didn't want to annoy him with her questions. He didn't want to talk about it, and she was fine with it.

"Do it for me."

She looked at him quizzically and remarked that his sea-blue eyes looked at her directly.

"What?"

"Stay."

She nervously bit her bottom lip.

"But just this one night."

"Just this one."

He smiled.

"You can sleep in my bed. I'll sleep on the sofa."

"Absolutely not!"

"I accept no back talk, love."

Emma gritted her teeth slightly. She hadn't slept in a good bed for a long time, but she didn't want to let him sleep on the sofa. It was his home, his bed, and no matter how badly she wanted to sleep in a real bed again, she felt bad with the thought that he would sleep on the sofa just because of her.

"Unless you want to sleep together with me in my bed."

The young woman looked at him puzzled and blinked a few times before she heard the laughter of the young man.

"It's okay, it was just a joke."

"Idiot."

He chuckled slightly. He knew she was opening up, and it was good. She probably didn't even notice it. They bonded without even trying.

"How long has it been since you've slept in a real bed, if I may ask?"

Powerless, she laughed.

"Too long."

"There you are. Just take it."

She nodded. She wouldn't argue. A warm, cozy bed was good. Very good. A safe sleep also. After all, she could be attacked in her car every night, so she had always slept with one eye open. But here? With him? She felt safe.

* * *

_"Your son has come through everything well, Mrs. Swan."_

_The young woman was silent. She was exhausted. Completely exhausted. She had just given birth to her son. The son of a coward. A child she never wanted. She had never felt like a mother, had partially felt an aversion to the child who had grown up under her heart. But now? Now that he was in the world? Something had changed._

_"Do you have a name for him?"_

_"Henry."_

_She smiled slightly. During the whole period of pregnancy, she had the child simply called "child." But now she had given him a name. She was ready to be a mother. She didn't need Neal. She didn't need her parents. She didn't need anyone. She would be a good mother. The nurse came in and brought in the little creature. Emma smiled wider. The woman handed her the fragile child, and the blonde was happy. It was her child. The little boy slept deeply. The doctor and the nurse left the room, and Emma was with Henry alone. She smiled at the child, handling it back and forth in her arms._

_"You'll never be a coward."_

_For a while, she was alone with her child, until she realized that something was wrong. The breath of the kid went flat; he wheezed and coughed. Emma pushed the emergency button and was almost panicked but was too weak to do anything. At some point she heard no more breath, felt no longer the little heartbeat in her hands. The doctor came in, and Emma tried to explain himself but found no words before the man held the child already in his hands, trying to resuscitate it. Unsuccessfully. The child was dead and only after a few hours. Henry died in Emma's arms for no apparent reason. As the blonde realized what had just happened, tears ran down her face. Not only was she in jail, no, she had also just lost the only bright spot in her life. Her child was dead. Dead. It would not come back. The baby died in her arms._

A scream escaped her. Bathed in sweat, she sat bolt upright in bed, clinging to her blanket. Not this dream again. Not this. Not this memory of what happened. She narrowed her eyes, shook her head, trying to suppress the pictures. Tears ran down her face. The door flew open, and the light turned on. Emma saw the panic in the face of the young man.

"What happened?"

She said nothing but swallowed hard, clinging more to the blanket. He saw her tears, walked slowly toward her before he sat down on the bed.

"Nightmare?"

She nodded slightly. Killian sighed and tried to look into her eyes, but he had no chance.

"Wanna talk about it?"

She shook her head vigorously. No, she couldn't talk about it. She would probably never get those words from her lips. She couldn't talk about the death of her own child. It was her fault. Only her.

"Give me a second, I have something that helps."

He stood up and she lifted her head to look at him. He went to the other side of the room to a dresser and opened a drawer. What was he looking for? Emma frowned when she saw how he came back with a blue candle and placed it in the candle holder on the bedside table. Killian took the lighter and lit it, smiling slightly.

"Try this."

"It's just a candle."

"It will help, I promise."

He smiled slightly and then walked to the door while she looked into the flame of the candle. Killian knew it was just a candle. That it was just a flame. But he could remember how his mother did the same for him when he was still a child. The memories of her disappeared more every day, and he could hardly remember her face. Only her beautiful red hair, and her lovely voice when she sang him a lullaby. And the candle of course. Every time when he wasn't able to sleep, she came in and lit up a candle. And it helped. He was calm again, and he could sleep all night. And it would also help Emma. He knew. He just knew.

"Will you stay with me?"

The Irishman had been about to leave the room when he heard the words. He turned around, cocked his head slightly. She really wanted him to stay with her? In her eyes he could see the fear that the dream had left. He saw the pain. He nodded.

"Of course."

He closed the door, turned off the light, and went to the other side of the bed to lay silently beside her and smile. She also lay down again, looking him straight in the face. She yawned and closed her eyes, realizing the tears had finally stopped.

"I'll take care of you."

But she didn't hear his words as she was already asleep.


	5. All scars have a story

She would never admit it, but it was one of their best days in a long time. She was stuck with him because of the snow storm, but if she was honest, she did not mind. It was good. She could sleep without being afraid. They had breakfast, although you could also call it lunch. During the day, they had been talking about relatively trivial things - about movies and books - but the past was still a taboo subject for both sides. Emma thought nothing of it, since it is the here and now that was interesting. And the two hit it off really well. She never expected that she would understand him so well. He had been more of an acquaintance, but now she would consider him as a friend. Maybe...no. No. He was a friend.

Killian wanted her to be enjoying this day. Wanted her to feel happy and safe. The temperatures outside were icy, and he did not want her to freeze to death. He also enjoyed being close to her. And because he wanted to make it a carefree day, he had suggested to her that they play video games, and it was already pretty late. At first she was skeptical, but he was able to persuade her. Currently they were playing a car racing game, and she had already won the third round in a row.

"Killian!"

"What?"

"Don't do that!"

"What?!"

"You let me win!"

"I did not!"

"Of course you did!"

"Okay, maybe, but only because you would never win."

"You're an Idiot!"

"But you like me."

"No, not anymore. Give me your controller, and we'll start again. And this time you will play honestly!

She reached over to him to get to the controller, but he pulled it away.

"Killian!"

He stretched out his arm and Emma looked at him in frustration.

"Don't tease me!"

"I would never do that, love."

He waved a little with the controller until she literally jumped forward to get to the object, but he pulled it again. She landed unfavorably on him so that both lost their balance and fell to the ground. With a growl, Killian felt the hard ground against his back, but then he began to laugh. The blonde sat up immediately, looked worriedly at him for a moment, but then laughed slightly as well. She was practically on him, but she did not really realize it. She tried to get to the controller again, when the room went dark.

"Look what you've done!" he said in a judging tone but chuckled after.

"That's certainly not my fault!"

"Definitely!"

"Oh shut up, Killian!"

They both laughed before the Irishman straightened.

"May I get up, so I can go and check the power box?"

She blinked at him confused, then realized that she really was sitting on him and immediately jumped up.

"I'm sorry."

Killian only smiled and stood up, straightened his clothes and went to the electrical box in the hallway, closely followed by the blonde. He used his the flame from his lighter as a light, opened the box, and looked inside. Perplexed, he shook his head, closed the box and carefully walked into the living room.

"Obviously, it's a power outage in the entire city. There isn't a light on anywhere."

"Do you have flashlights somewhere?"

"Yes, but without batteries. Let me look for the candles. Wait here."

A loud crack sounded, and Emma winced.

"Don't leave me."

"Are you scared, Swan?"

"No, of course not!"

"You look scared."

"I'm not!"

"I get it, but why are you clinging to my arm?"

"Well...uhm...I like it."

"You're a liar."

"And you're rude!"

"I know, I was born with rudeness."

No matter how stupid it sounded, with him she didn't have to be strong. She could be the little girl that was normally lost. She did not pretend to be someone else. No matter how hard she tried to keep him away from her walls, it did not work, and she knew it. He scratched at them, coming closer and closer, and the walls collapsed around her. She wanted to let him in, but something kept making her block him out. She didn't wanted to trust him, but she was doing it already. The fact that she was here with him now was something that wasn't possible a month ago. She let him near her, closer than anyone else. Since Neal, she had allowed no one to get near to her. She had never wanted it. Had never planned on it. Then he showed up. Just like that. And he became the only safe place she knew.

Killian came back with a couple of candles and placed them on the coffee table. He turned to her and lit it while Emma rubbed her hands together. He saw it and went over to the heater before he grumbled, annoyed.

"Broken?"

"Hm."

The Irishman took some blankets from a box and put them on the sofa.

"I guess no more video games. Any other ideas?"

Emma looked at him quizzically before she sat down on the sofa and took a blanket. It would be even colder.

"Strip Poker?"

"Killian!"

"I'm just asking!"

A grin appeared on his face, and he also sat down next to her.

"I'm sure, seeing my half-naked body you would be warm again."

"Oh, shut up!"

Both started to laugh again. They knew that the other one meant no harm. However, she threw her controller at him to strengthen her words. But he grabbed her wrist and pulled her closer. His gaze was directed at her eyes, a slight smile graced his face before he lightly licked his lips and could not prevent his gaze from briefly falling on her own lips.

He swallowed and then looked back into her face. She literally sank into his sea-blue eyes. She had never seen such eyes. She had become aware of him after she looked him in the face for the first time. She had seen the eyes. The mirror to the soul. To the broken soul of which she knew nothing.

However, Killian bethought himself and let go of her wrist again, winked, and he got an outstretched tongue in response. Emma glanced past him outside, where everything was still dark and silent. Such a thing was not normal. It was a large city, usually there was noise and light there. But now? Nothing. Although he lived on the outskirts of the city, but still, nothing. Only the wind could be heard.

Emma shivered.

"Come here."

"What?"

He spread out the blanket he had wrapped around himself and invited her to practically snuggle up against him so they would not freeze. The blonde looked at him for a moment skeptically before she shook her head.

"What are you afraid of?"

"I'm not afraid."

"But something is holding you back."

Emma bit her lower lip and looked away from him. Goose bumps formed on her body.

"Now come over here already."

His voice was soft and almost gentle. She looked back at him and overcome herself enough that she allowed him to take her in his arms.

Emma leaned against his shoulder and he put his arm gently around her. First she was tense, but after a few breaths, she let herself fall completely and relaxed herself. She knew that she was safe in his arms. And it was also warm again. But was it only because of the body heat he radiated? A strange feeling spread through her stomach. No. No, it could not be. She bit her lower lip until it hurt to banish her thoughts.

She felt his heartbeat against her back, and it was reassuring. She did not know why its proximity felt so good. But just to be here, in his arms, half lying, it was good. It felt right. A feeling that she had forgotten for a long time. If you lived outside and had to steal, it was not right, she knew it. She had always been accompanied by the feeling of doing something wrong. But here, with him, in his arms? It was right. She felt it. He was right.

He rested his head lightly on her shoulder and looked at her arm. He took it gently in his hands, pushed the fabric a little high, until he saw some old scars. It did not look as bad as the pictures that everyone knew. There were only old scars. Memories. No fresh. And he was glad.

"Killian...?"

He ignored her questioning voice, just gently stroked over the scratched past.

"Scars tell the stories of our lives. They remind us where we've been. What we have experienced."

His touch left traces. A shiver ran through her body.

"Tell me the origin of these scars. Tell me their story. Tell me your story."

He ran his thumb over the scars that lay near her wrist. She was breathing hard, not knowing what to say. She grabbed his hand and took it in hers.

"I...I don't know where to start."

"Take your time."

He gently lifted her arm slightly and kissed the scars. Goose bumps formed on her entire body. What was he doing? Why would he kiss something so disgusting? Almost as if he read her thoughts, he replied.

"They're a part of you. And as beautiful as the rest of you."

She took his arm down again, took his hands in hers, as this would give her strength.

"I...I was doing some time in prison because of incidents. I had no one. And then there was this guard. A few years older than me. I don't know why, but I liked him. He helped me at the time, apparently he liked me, too. He was the only friend I had. Eventually, he appeared to no longer serve. At first I thought he was sick. But days became weeks. Weeks became months. And one day, I asked and was told that he was dead, murdered. He had someone arrested in his time as a cop. That someone was outside again and wanted revenge. He had been shot in the street. It hit me hard. I had no one anymore."

Killian was silent, she pressed closer to him and noticed that she slightly relaxed.

"What was his name?"

"Graham. Graham Humbert."

The Irishman frowned. Somewhere he had heard the name before. In the news? Yes, that could be. Maybe.

"I was completely at the end after that. I ate nothing, I did not want to leave the bed. I..."

He noticed how she began to sob slightly.

"Shh. Don't cry. I'm with you."

He pressed a kiss on her head, and she tried hard not to cry.

"I miss him."

"Of course."

A short silence returned. Only the breathing of the two could be heard.

"Thank you for telling me this."

He was glad that she had opened to him a bit. That she dropped her walls slowly. He would give her time. She should do it by herself.

She turned her head slightly to him so that she could see his face.

"You've got a scar too."

"Huh?"

"On your cheek. Tell me the story."

"There's nothing special to tell."

He saw her plea in her eyes, sighed slightly.

"Only a fight when I was a boy. The other pulled out a knife and hit me on the cheek. Nothing major. My past is rather boring."

She nodded slightly but did not turn her head away. He noticed her eyes were long gone from his scar to his lips. The sparks between the two were undeniable, and at the moment no one fought against the feelings. Killian looked to her lips and lowered his head slightly, when all of a sudden the light blinded them, and they startled because of the noise of the television.

Both looked at each other for a few moments with a confused look in their eyes before they put a healthy distance between them. The inner walls which had just been down a few second before were up again now, maybe even higher than before. Emma got up from the couch, went to the window, looking outside, where the lights of the city were on again. The power was back. And it stopped...something. Something between them. Killian turned the television off and silence returned.

"Emma, I-"

"No, it's okay."

Actually, nothing was okay, but she wouldn't admit it in front of him. What was she doing here anyway? She shouldn't get involved with him, she shouldn't be here. But she was safe here, had enough food, warm water, a comfortable bed. Of course she couldn't stay here forever, but she already convinced herself to stay at least a few days with him. Until now. What the hell was that. They had dropped their walls, they had enjoyed the proximity of each other, just the feeling they got. And this was bad. She couldn't allow it. No feelings. Never again. Not with him, not with anyone. It would only hurt, no matter when.

She heard as he stood up and walked to her, but she didn't turn around, just put her arms around her body. He stood behind her, didn't know what to say. He knew how sensitive she was, but in this one moment they had, in the darkness, looking at each other, mixed with the human weakness...it was a moment of connection. But she wasn't ready, he knew. He could see it in the way she acted right now - saw it in her eyes when the light went on again, in the way she looked at him. So he would hold himself back, he would never harass her to admit...whatever they had.

"Do you mind if I go to sleep?"

Emma had turned to him, looking him in the eyes. He shook his head. Of course he wouldn't have a problem with it. She just nodded and gave him a slight smile before she walked to the door. Just before she was out, she heard that Irish accent again.

"Emma?"

"Hm?"

"I'm sorry."

"I know. It's okay. Really."

She had once again turned, smiled at him, and then she left the room, closing the door behind her. He looked after her, curious about what had happened in her past that she could react in this way, even if nothing real had happened between them. Not physical. But they both had felt it. Both would need to handle it now.

"Fuck", Killian muttered before he sat down on the couch again and pressed his face into the pillow.


	6. Old friends and foes

The night was rather short, at least for Killian. The couch was uncomfortable - reminded him that he had been sitting there a few hours earlier with her and that she told him a part of her story. Graham Humbert. Graham. The name was stuck in his head, like the fact that he and Emma had come too close to each other. Closer than planned at least.

He grabbed his phone and looked at the time. Shortly after eight. In the morning, of course. God damn, restful sleep was something else. Emma was probably still sleeping, but this was good; she needed it. Who knew when the last time she could sleep that way had been. She should use the opportunity of peaceful sleep as long as she could. Who knew when she would disappear again. Or had to go...

His ring tone interrupted his thoughts and a few silent curses came from his mouth. He reached for the phone again, read the text message. 'Be there in two minutes. Get some pants on and throw the girls out.'

Fucking idiot. Who the hell told him that it would be a good idea to come over so early in the morning? Presumably, he was even in the hallway and was just waiting for the elevator. Damn.

Killian growled slightly, but at least he didn't need to throw the girls who he picked up from the street out. Emma was a special...case. A different one.

And there it was. The annoying sound of the bell. Hopefully, Emma wasn't awake now. Before his bothersome friend could ring the bell a second time, Killian threw away the blanket, pulled a shirt over his head, and walked to the door. With a slight murmur, he opened it and looked into the face of the other man.

"Jefferson."

"Killian."

For a moment they just stood there before the Irishman stepped aside and gave his friend the permission to go inside.

Back in the living room, his visitor had already placed himself in the armchair, while Killian sat down on his couch.

"What exactly are you doing here?"  
Killian sounded impatient, and he was irritated. It was early in the morning, he hadn't heard anything of Jefferson in weeks, and he didn't want to. When the guy showed up, it always meant trouble. A problem. Something bad.

"Can I not just visit my old best friend?"

Jefferson's voice sounded a little amused, but you could also hear the sobriety in it. He wasn't here for fun. Killian knew this too well.

"Sure. But I look at you and can already tell that something is wrong. So?"

The other man looked at his hands, kneading them slightly. He had apparently no idea how to explain himself.

"Jefferson," Killian growled impatiently.

"_He's_ back."

The words came from the mouth of the other quickly, but they were still very much understandable. Killian froze. No. That couldn't be. This son of a bitch! His hand clenched into a fist, fighting for self-control.

"Killian, calm down."

"Bloody hell, no!

He stood up and ran his hands through his hair. That couldn't be true. Why now?!

He jerked around when he heard a creaking behind him, and he saw Emma, standing in the doorway. She eyed the two men carefully before she realized that she probably had bad timing.

"I thought-" Jefferson started but was cut off.

"I'll take care of that," Killian growled, walking to Emma, who was already confused about the whole situation.

"What's going on?"

"I...I'll explain that later. But it's important. Go into the kitchen, make some breakfast, use what you want. He'll leave soon."

She nodded at him and went to the kitchen while Killian went back into the living room where Jefferson stood up from his place and looked at him suspiciously.

"Who's that?"

"Not your problem."

"She didn't look like one of your little toys," Jefferson chuckled.

"She isn't."

"So she's one of the girls for-"

"Can't you keep your fucking mouth shut?! With whom I spend my time isn't your problem, and you really shouldn't care about it!"

"But it is my problem if they belong to the business!"

Killian grabbed Jefferson by the collar and pushed him against the wall. The worried and friendly man who was there last night was totally gone. He was cold and brutal. He clenched his hand into a fist, ready to hit Jefferson, but he pushed him back, so Killian had to let go of him.

Both were silent for a moment before Jefferson raised his voice again.

"So it's just a girl from the streets again?"

Killian was silent for a moment, turning around, afraid that Emma could hear them. He gritted his teeth, unsure of what he should tell his friend.

"I don't know. Yes, I've picked her up form the treet, but...she's different."

"Different? They're all the same, and we only need them for-"

"_We_ don't need them! _He_ does!"

Jefferson sighed. He knew that it was useless to talk to him now. The young Irishman looked around to find his clothes, then he put on his pants.

"Where are you going?"

"Out."

Killian had already turned away and would have gone without Jefferson, but he grabbed him by the shoulder.

"Dude. Calm down. Take a deep breath. Please promise me that you won't go looking for him. We can't do that, it's too risky!"

"Why shouldn't I do that? He finds us anyway! It doesn't matter what we do! He's back, and the whole damn crap will start all over again!"

Jefferson said nothing because he understood completely.

Killian walked over to the kitchen where Emma was just looking for food in the fridge.

"Hey love, I need to go out for a bit but, I'll bring back some buns."

"Huh? Why's that?"

"I need a little fresh air, and because the storm is over and the roads are cleared. I should be back soon."

Fuck. When the storm was over, and it was safe again, she would go. Oh, damn. Sometimes he hated his life. But Emma didn't escape at all. She didn't even move, just nodded a bit.

"I'll make the rest here then and wait for you to get back with the buns."

She smiled slightly at him, and he felt sick in his stomach. He could still remember when he knew her only a few days. No smiles. No grin. No laugh. Nothing. Only the face of a broken, young girl.

Killian nodded and smiled back at her and was incredibly happy that she apparently still had planned to stay at least a few more hours.

Killian went in his bedroom, putting more comfortable clothes on, and then he went outside with Jefferson after he grabbed his jacket and his keys. A few seconds later the door slammed shut and both went down the stairs before the cool winter air was all around them.

Killian breathed easily, leaving a small cloud in the cool air. He had to think for a moment about what would have been if Emma would still be out here now. She would spend the cold winter here, every cold night, just in the back seat of her car without warm clothes. He knew too well how it felt to live like that, and he didn't want it for Emma. And no matter who had to live like that, it would break the person after a while. He knew it. Cold and hunger broke everyone after a while, even the strongest warrior. And when you're young and broken, you do stupid things to survive.

"Jones?"

He heard Jefferson's voice next to him, and he looked to the side, raising an eyebrow.

"Hm?"

"I have to go again. Promise me you won't do anything stupid. Don't try to find him."

Killian laughed, slightly unimpressed as his face darkened.

"If he wants something from us, he will find us sooner or later anyway. Even if he's been away for years now, he still has ears and eyes here."

Jefferson gritted his teeth but nodded. Both knew that it was true.

"Just...take care of yourself...and of her."

Killian smiled a little at his friend and gave him a short hug as a goodbye. He had no idea when they would see each other again. Time was a complicated thing, and it just got more complicated. Jefferson went around the corner, and Killian was alone again. He looked up to the window of his aparment where Emma was and started smiling again. He had a fucking problem now. A big one. Should _he_ find him, she would also have a problem. But he couldn't throw her out. Not under these cicrumstances, not in this weather, not with what...what he felt for her, even if he couldn't say what exactly it was.

He looked away, just watched the cars passing by for a moment before he took the road to the bakery. After all, he promised that he would bring some buns, and he didn't want her to wait for too long. He just went around the corner when someone ran into him.

"Sorry."

He knew this voice, but he still needed a moment to recognize the distinctive face in front of him.

"Felix?"

"Killian!"

"Fuck."

* * *

**A/N** Well, I think now where more shit is going down it's time to say thank you for all your reviews, favs and follows. I'm really glad you enjoy this story as much as I do and I hope the short chapters are okay, because mostly I don't have a plan how much I'll write, I just write and make a stop when I think it's a good time to *laughs* Thank you all so much 3


	7. The system isn't good for children

Killian saw the wide grin on the face of his...'friend', not sure if he wanted to slap him or if he should just go on.

"Fuck? Is that really an appropriate geeting after all this time?"

The Irishman rolled his eyes when he heard the cocky words, biting his lower lip slightly, not quite sure if he should say something at all.

"Did he send you?"

His voice was lowered, and it was clear how much he wanted to go away from there right now.

"He? You mean Gold? You can say his name out loud, you know, he's not Lord Voldemort," said Felix, laughing before he shook his head.

"Fine, then you wouldn't have a problem with me leaving now."

"Nah, that would be too easy."

Felix put his hands in his pockets and looked at the older of them, still grinning like an idiot.

"What the hell do you want, Felix?"

"I'm just visiting you!"

Killian balled his hand into a fist and rolled his eyes.

"If one more person says that, I'll kill someone," he mumbled, more to himself than to Felix.

"Huh?"

"Forget it."

The blonde boy nodded a little and looked around.

"So, can we talk? I know you don't live that far away."

Killian sighed. Of course he wouldn't take Felix home with him, after all, Emma was still there and awaiting a beakfast in peace, and his old friend was totally not in the definition of peace.

"You can walk with me to the bakery. I need to get some buns. But after that, you move your ass as far as possible away from me," he growled irritably and just started walking.

"Well, brother, tell me, how are you doing? Something nice to tell? Has anything exciting happened?"

That one word was the straw that broke the camel's back. Killian grabbed the younger one by the collar, pushed him into the nearest wall of the building next to them, and only heard a pained growl from the other.

"The only exciting thing that will happen is that I'll throw you in front of a bloody car! We are not fucking brothers anymore, Felix! Be glad that I don't shoot you right now!"

Felix raised his hand and Killian let him down again.

"Hey, calm down, okay."

"No! You chose the wrong god damn side back then! I should have shot you when I had the bloody chance!"

The boy gritted his teeth slightly, looked around for a moment.

"Fine. Apparently, you don't want me here. I just hoped you would. Okay, too bad. But Gold still has a score to settle with you, and he knows where you live and where you work. I'm not sure, but I think he wants you back on the team. Just as a warning, be careful, brother."

Without another word, Felix turned around and walked away. No goodbye. He just walked away.

Killian ran a hand through his hair before he punched the wall besides him until his knuckles bled. Crap. Bloody crap. That had to be a fucking nightmare. He took a deep breath and leaned against the wall, leaning his head back and closing his eyes for a moment before he saw pictures in his mind - pictures of his past, things he wanted to forget.

_"I want to be Peter Pan!"_

_"Killian, no, you're always Pan!"_

_"Yeah, because I'm the older one!"_

_"So what? I'm prettier!"_

_"In your dreams!"_

_"No, look at me!"  
"I am! I can't see how pretty you are!"_

_"That's not fair! You're not playing fair! You're more like Captain Hook. Pirates never play fair!"_

_"No way! I'm not a bloody codfish!"_

_The two boys ran through the dorm before all of a sudden, the door opened and a really pissed off man came in._

_"Can you fucking brats not be quiet?! Off to bed, or you won't get any breakfast tomorrow!"_

_The boys froze and then went to their beds immediately. The supervisor nodded, satisfied and went out again._

_"Killian?"_

_"Hm?_

_"Do you think we will get out of here soon?"_

_"Sure. We will find a family."_

_"Do you think we will stay together? I heard they mostly just choose one kid."_

_"Aye. I won't leave you alone. We're brothers, Felix. We're a family."_

_The dark haired boy grinned over at his friend before he fell asleep. Killian looked at him for a few moments. He was a liar. He couldn't promise that they would stay together because it almost never happened that both find a home together. But the other boy needed something to hold on to. Something to believe in. Because hope and faith were stronger than anything else._

Killian took a deep breath. Felix was his only friend back then in the orphanage. They had gone through so much crap together, so they became like brothers. But today, no one would ever say again that they were brothers once. Too much had happened. The fighting between them left too many scars, especially for Killian. On his skin and in his soul. Scars that wouldn't heal. Scars that showed his past. Scars that were much deeper than you would assume at first. He was so fucked up.

The system wasn't good for children. For no one. He had stopped counting at a young age how often he had come to a foster family just to be sent back after a short time. He would cause trouble, they said. He was a difficult child, they said. Lies. All lies. Just his last family was...very different.

The young man shook his head. He didn't want to think about it now. The past should remain the past, even if it momentarily looked as it would catch up with him and faster than he liked. Why now? He had found someone after a long time that he felt good with. He felt something. Something special. He didn't know exactly what he felt for Emma, but it was something important. Not love, love felt different, he knew that. But it was important and special for both of them. It was something good. It had been so long since he had felt something similar for someone. Many years. Years he just wanted to forget.

Maybe he had just been unfair to Felix. Maybe he should have treated him better. But there was just too much anger and hatred from what had happened, so he had not been able to control himself. Damn. He slammed his head against the cold stone wall behind him. He was a fucking idiot. Such a fucking idiot. He could do nothing, Felix was right. He wasn't Peter Pan, he was the bloody Captain Hook. A damn pirate.

* * *

Emma flipped through the many tv programs with a blanket wrapped around her body, waiting for Killian to come back with breakfast. She was still not quite sure what she was even doing there. She could go. The storm was over, and her car was right outside in front of the building. She could simply go somewhere else. There were no limits for someone like her. She had no responsibilities, no family, and a car that could take her anywhere she wanted.

But she was still here. In his apartment. On his couch where he had slept a few hours ago. Two days ago, she would have gone, without a word. But he was there for her. He had slept next to her when she had nightmares. He took care of her. He distracted her from her life. Why did he do that? He had never told her. Why could he get so many emotions out of her she had forgotten? Why him? The perfect stranger she just walked into because of a stupid accident. But was it really an accident? Or was it fate? She didn't really believe in such things. For her, it was pure bullshit. But right now? It was different. He was different.

She pushed the blanket aside, stood up, and walked a bit through the living room before she went to the window, thinking maybe she could already see him. Emma looked out into the street and saw people running and fast walking, and she noticed how the snow began to fall slowly. She smiled slightly. Christmas was approaching. Christmas and the New Year. A new year always meant a new beginning. With him? Maybe. Who knew what would happen. Soon the colorful lights would be everywhere to illuminate the night. Soon the time will come where everyone bought gifts for their family. Something she never had. She never had a perfect Christmas. In the system, there was no perfect Christmas, no real Christmas. And she had never spent Christmas with a foster family. They had always sent her back before the snow started to fall. She closed her eyes at the thought.

_"Emma!"  
The little blonde girl turned around and looked down the long school hallway._

_"Snow? What is it? We already said goodbye."_

_The black haired girl was her only friend. Actually, she was called Mary Margaret, but because she reminded everyone of the fairytrale character Snow White, everyone called her Snow._

_"I got something for you!"_

_"For me?"_

_Snow nodded and took a small package out of her backpack._

_"You know that I'll leave soon, and I forgot to give it to you before. But it's almost Christmas, and I can imagine how awful it must be for you without a family and real presents. Therefore, I'll give you this."_

_Emma looked at the other girl a little confused but took the small package._

_"You can open it now, before the other kids will take it away from you."_

_Snow chuckled slightly. She knew Emma very well, even if they weren't friends for a long time, because Emma was more of a loner. But somehow, they found each other. The blonde raised an eyebrow, looking at her friend still in disbelief. She had never received a present, at least not such a big one. She nodded and opened it slowly. It was a book._

_"Peter Pan?"_

_"Yup! You know, the lost boys always remind me of you."_

_"I remind you of a boy?"_

_"Oh no, silly! But they have no parents and only their friends in Neverland. They don't want to grow up because then everything gets worse, and they want a mother, a family."_

_Emma smiled slightly. Yes, that was somehow accurate for her. Snow went to her and hugged her tight._

_"I have to go. I'll write you a letter as soon as I can!"_

Those were the last words that Emma had ever heard of her only friend again. She had never written a letter. Or a postcard. Nothing. She had never heard of Snow again. Presumably, she had found someone better, had a better life.

Emma walked away from the window and went over to her things, dug a little in her backpack, and pulled out the old book. She began to smile without noticing it. Peter Pan. During her childhood, she had read it so many times that she had stopped counting. She knew the story of Wendy, Peter, and the Lost Boys by heart. These children that found their family, somehow. But she didn't.

When she heard that the door opened, she quickly tucked the book back into her backpack, stood up, looked around the corner, and watched how Killian came back in and had a bag of buns in his hand.

"You're back!"

"Aye. The bakery was pretty full, so I'm a little late."

"Ah, it's fine. As long as you have food."

Emma smiled and went to him to take the bag. After he had taken off his jacket, he followed her into the living room, where she had already put all the stuff for a good breakfast on the table.

"This looks good," Killian said with a smile, before he sat down next to Emma on the couch and grabbed a bun.

"Killian?"

"Hm?  
"Who was your friend before? He looked pretty...worried."

"Oh, that was just Jefferson. He is an idiot who likes to come over in the morning."

"What was it about?"

Killian gritted his teeth slightly and cut his bun open.

"We...well, we work together. It was about a shift change."

"And he comes over for such a thing? He could have called."

"Like I said, he is an idiot, and he loves to annoy me."

Emma nodded, something was wrong, she knew it. Then she looked at his right hand and saw that his knuckles were red and bloody.

"What happened?"

"Nothing."

"Killian, you're bleeding! How can that be nothing?"

"It's not important, really. I'm fine. Men get into a small brawl if they can't agree on something. It's okay, love, don't worry, okay?"

Emma nodded slightly and bit into the bun. For him, it was obviously not okay, and he was not fine, but okay, she wouldn't ask more. She already seemed so nosy. But what was the thing about Jefferson? What was it really about? He didn't sound convincing at all, so what was wrong? She couldn't believe that he was lying to her. Normally she was pretty good at knowing when someone was lying, but with him...it was different. She simply refused to believe that he would lie to her. He was so kind to her, he cared for her. Why should he lie? She felt safe and secure with him. She didn't want to give up or lose this just because she didn't believe him.

But there was one thing both hadn't noticed at all. Neither Emma, when she had looked out of the window, nor Killian, when he returned from the bakery. A small but dangerous thing. Neither of them noticed the two pairs of eyes watching them. And they saw already more than Killian wanted them to see.


	8. Not everyone likes Christmas

The days passed fast when the two of them were together. The snow had fallen more, it had become cooler outside, and the lakes were frozen like the windows of the cars. Christmas was only one week away, and the worst time for people without families had arrived.

For Emma, something like normality had returned, something she didn't have in a long time. It was almost like she had been with Killian since forever. Both woke up in the morning and ate breakfast together. On some days, he went to work in a small cafe not far away, so Emma could visit him every now and then, and they drank a coffee together. However, Killian's job seemed to be not really solid, because he only worked on some days, different times, but he also worked as a bartender in the evening some nights. But it wasn't really a bad thing, so Emma had some time for herself, time to think about how she could change her life when she was finally ready.

The time she was there now felt like eternity. Sleeping in his bed, eating from his fridge, while he paid for everything and slept on the couch. Of course she felt guilty, but she had no idea what she should do. He would hate her if she would simply disappear, and he would also stop her when she would talk about it with him. But he was right. All the time. Where could she go? She had nothing and no one, except him.

She heard the door os and Killian came home from work. She smiled slightly, looking over the back of the couch as he came in and grinned at him.

"Maybe I should say, 'I'm home, honey' now when you look at me like that?"

She began to laugh before she shook her head.

"You're an idiot."

"Aye, I know."

He put his jacket on the back of the couch before he settled down next to Emma and yawned. It was already late in the afternoon, and they hadn't seen each other most of the day.

"And, what have you been doing today?"

Killian tilted his head slightly to the side so he could see her better.

"Not much. I was outside a little and watched the people doing their shopping for Christmas, looked at the beautiful Christmas decorations...and yeah, nothing else."

"Oh, Christmas."

Emma shifted slightly on the couch so she could see him better and smiled at him.

"You're not a big fan, right?"

He sighed and shook his head.

"No,not really. I hate Christmas."

"You sound like the Grinch."

She laughed as he stuck out his tongue.

"Well, at least I'm more handsome."

"Nah, I'm not sure about that."

"Excuse me?!"

They both laughed before Killian shook his head again.

"Is that why you have no Christmas decorations in your apartment?"

"Well I've never been a fan of Christmas, to be honest."

"Why not?"

The Irishman sighed, bit his lower lip. He wasn't sure if he should tell her what happened or not. He never spoke about his past at all. But with her...it didn't feel wrong to tell her, since she was also damaged from the past.

"You don't have to, if you don't want to."

She smiled slightly at him, but he saw the hope in her eyes. He nodded, making his decision.

"I was...I think six years old. We were on our way to a friend's to celebrate Christmas with them. It was Christmas Eve, and my parents and I were in this car, but the roads were quite icy. We...we were involved in an accident with several deaths, including my father...since then I haven't celebrated Christmas."

Emma looked at him with big eyes, took his hand slightly, and tried to smile. She understood him. Sure, she hadn't lost someone at Christmas, but she grew up alone and without a father, too. She squeezed his hand slightly as she looked at him when he took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't. It's okay. It's been nineteen years now. I got used to it. I'm fine."

"It's still bad."

He nodded and crossed his fingers with hers, looked at the hands of the two and smiled. They stayed like this for a short moment before he took her hand back. It was still something unusual for her, something she still did not allow all the time, only for a short moment.

* * *

_The sirens and blue lights were all around him. He sat on an ambulance, wrapping the blanket tighter around himself._

_"I want my mama."_

_The boy's voice was muffled and quiet, but the emergency doctor shook his head._

_"Not yet. The doctor is still with her, but she'll be better soon."_

_The blue eyes of the boy were full of tears. He was in pain, but he was more worried about his parents._

_"What about my papa?"_

_The doctor looked at him for a short moment, then looked over at one of the other cars._

_"I don't know."_

_Killian lowered his head, saw his feet hanging in the air while he sat in the car. He heard screams in the background. Was it his mother? No. He looked around easily. Four cars. Four junk cars. One had exploded before the firefighters and paramedics had been there. But it wasn't his car. Not where he and his parents had been sitting. On the side was a precipice where the mountain went straight down. There was their car. Far, far down there. He and his mother had fallen out before. But not his Dad. He was down there._

_Killian looked at the firefighters, how they pulled up the body. He knew that it was his dad. Before the doctor could stop him, the boy jumped out of the ambulance and ran to the place where other doctors and firefighters stood around his dad._

_"He's not breathing!"_

_"Shit! Revival! now!"_

_The blue-eyed boy ran thither, heard the voices of the men called out to him, but ignored them. And then he saw his father. Full of blood, with wounds all over his body._

_"PAPA!"_

_Killian screamed over and over again. He knew that his father was not breathing, but he yelled at him._

_"You can't leave us alone! Please, please don't leave us!"_

_Again and again he shouted, before one of the men came and took away him. The tears flowed down his face, and just before the man sat him down in the car again, he saw how the men stopped with the revival. He had seen just how his own father died._

* * *

Killian shook his head ever so slightly to get the thoughts out of his head. The images of burning cars, the screams of dying people.

"What about you?" he asked her then.

"Hm?"

"Do you like Christmas?"

"I...I don't know."

The young man tilted his head, frowning slightly.

"You don't know?"

"Well...I never had a real Christmas. I grew up in the children's home and the foster families always gave me back after a while. I never stayed there over Christmas. And in the foster home-"

"There is never a real Christmas, especially not if there are older children who could take your gifts away."

He smiled slightly when her eyes widened.

"You're an orphan, too?"

"I prefer Lost Boy. I told you, I always wanted to be Peter Pan, and I had a pretty good reason."

"But I thought only your father was killed in the car accident. What happened to your mother?"

Killian held his breath briefly, looked away from her.

"Things were...complicated."

Emma nodded, understandingly. He didn't want to talk about it, and she could see how uncomfortable he was right now.

She stood up and walked over to the window sill, leaning against it and looked outside to the people and cars and watched them - how they were making their way though the city.

"I always wanted to have a perfect Christmas like everyone else. With a family, great gifts, and cookies. With a decorated Christmas tree. But most of all, I just didn't want to be alone. It's a family day, and I never had one. I never had parents...I lived in the children's home since I was a baby, and all I wanted was someone who would sit with me on the couch, looking at the beautiful christmas tree, drinking hot chocolate with cinnamon. Someone to cuddle because it's cold outside...just not to be alone."

The young woman swallowed to hold back the tears.

* * *

_Emma watched the children in their class and how they were picked up by their parents after school. How they hugged them at the last day before Christmas holidays. Everything was beautifully decorated, and everyone was ready for the gifts and to spend time with family._

_Except for her. She would walk alone through the snow now, maybe making one or two stops in the city to enjoy the wonderful smell of cinnamon everywhere, but eventually she would go back to the children's home. Not to her family like any other child in her class._

_The little girl lowered her head and walked her usual way home. The snow crunched under her feet, and the people she met didn't even notice her. She took the road through the snowy park. She loved the trees without leaves, the ground completely covered with snow. Emma smiled and walked slowly to enjoy the time before she had to go back._  
_"Hey, Swan!"_

_She turned her head when she heard her name but swallowed hard when she saw who called after her._

_"Go away, Tyler."_

_"Nah, I like it here."_

_The brown-haired boy laughed and walked up to the girl with his friend. He was in her class, and he always insulted her because she was an orphan and grew up alone. Just this morning, the teacher had cautioned him, but now he apparently took the chance to finish what he had started. Snow usually always had protected her, but she wasn't here anymore._

_She swallowed again before he took her backpack away._

_"Give it back!"_

_She grabbed after it, but he threw it over to his friend with a sardonic grin on his lips._

_"No, why should I? What will you do? Run to mommy and daddy? Oh wait, you can't."_

_He laughed, and in the eyes of the girl gathered tears while she just stood there and clenched her hands into a fist._

_"Hey, Jim, give it to me. Let's see what's in there."_

_Tyler walked over to his friend and began to remove all the things from the backpack and threw them carelessly into the snow. At last, he pulled out the book that Snow had given her a few days earlier._

_"Ah, what do we have here? Peter Pan? Bullshit."_

_"Not the book!"_

_Emma screamed, looking at him with glassy and red eyes._

_"Oh? Is it important to you?"_

_She nodded slightly, biting her bottom lip with the hope he would let go of the book._

_"Then I'm sure you want to share, and you won't have a problem when I take a few pages home with me."_

_The boy laughed and Emma was aboout to say something, but then snowballs flew in their direction, and one of them hit Tyler's head._

_"What the-?"_

_Another snowball hit him right in the face, but when he looked around he saw no one._

_"What the fuck?!"_

_He growled at Emma, but she also didn't know what was going on, and looked around confused. As more and more snowballs flew through the air and hit Tyler and his friend, the two boys dropped the bag and the book and ran away, muttering a few curses and insults before they were gone._

_Emma blinked slightly and walked over to her things. She just wanted to take the book, but another hand was faster. Confused, she looked up and saw a grinning boy in front of her._

_"Peter Pan, eh?"_

_SHe nodded slightly and saw more boys behind him. He handed her the book, and she smiled._

_"Thanks."_

_Emma grabbed the book and put it back in the backpack along with the other things Tyler thew out before._

_The boy nodded to his friends and turned to go, but Emma grabbed his wrist and looked at him closely for a short moment. He was a bit older than her, maybe fifteen or sixteen years old, and he wore tattered clothes. It must be cold for him._

_"Who are you?"_

_He laughed slightly, bowed to her._

_"Peter Pan, my lady."_

_He winked at her, and she blushed but smiled at him._

_"Come on, tell me your name!"_

_She giggled slightly, but he just nodded a few times more._

_"I am Peter Pan, and these are my lost boys. We came directly from Neverland to rescue you!"_

_She just shook her head._

_"You're weird", Emma said and got only a wide grin from the boy._

_"Take care of yourself, okay? The way from Neverland is far and maybe we can't be here the next time."_

_The young girl nodded, and shortly after that, the boy and his friends were gone._

* * *

Emma sighed while she stood there by the window. She had never seen the boy again and had always believed that it was really Peter Pan when she was younger. And today? Today she believed in nothing anymore. Not even in the magic of Christmas. Gods, she didn't even believe in herself.

She heard how he got up from the couch and went to her. The young girl quickly wiped the tears away from the corner of her eyes before he leaned down next to her on the window still.

"Emma?"

"Hm?"

"Do you wanna spend Christmas with me?"

She blinked a few times and looked over to him, his face just inches away from her.

"But I thought you hated Christmas?"

"Well, it's always a good time to try something new, right?"

He smiled slightly at her, waiting for an answer.

"I...I don't know. I think it could be nice to spend it with someone you like, right?"

She looked over to him questioningly, and he nodded, the smile on his lips growing. She would never admit it now, but he just offered her what she always wanted: A Christmas where she wasn't alone.


End file.
